and the pounds and the people in a most extraordinary manner: "James Milligan of Roundtown, one pound; Darby Daly of Roundtown, one pound; Sam Finnegan of Roundtown, one pound; James Casey of Roundpound, one town; Kit Dwyer of Townpound, one round-pound, I mane; Pat Roundpound-Pounden, I mane-Pat Pounden a pound of Poundtown also-there's an example for you! "But what are you about, Rafferty? I don't like the sound of that plate of yours-you are not a good gleaner -go up first into the gallery there, where I see so many good-looking bonnets-I suppose they will give something to keep their bonnets out of the rain, for the wet will be into the gallery next Sunday if they don't. I think that is Kitty Crow I see, getting her bit of silver ready; them ribbons of yours cost a thrifle, Kitty. Well, good Christians, here is more of the subscription for you." Matthew Lavery, £0 2s. 6d. "He does n't belong to Roundtown-Roundtown will be renowned in future ages for the support of the church. Mark my words! Roundtown will prosper from this day out-Roundtown will be a rising place." Mark Hennessy, £0 2s. 6d.; Luke Clancy, £0 2s. 6d. ; John Doolin, £0 2s. 6d. “One would think they had all agreed only to give two and sixpence apiece. And they comfortable men, too! And look at their namesMatthew, Mark, Luke, and John-the names of the blessed Evangelists, and only ten shillings among them! Oh, they are apostles not worthy of the name—we'll call them the poor apostles from this out!" (Here a low laugh ran through the chapel.) "Do you hear that, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John? you that name will stick to you!" louder.) Faith! I can tell (Here the laugh was A voice, when the laugh subsided, exclaimed, "I'll make it ten shillin's, your reverence." "Who's that?" said Father Phil. "Very well, Mark. I suppose Matthew, Luke, and John will follow your example?" "We will, your reverence." "Ha! I thought you made a mistake; we'll call you now the faithful apostles-and I think the change in your name is better than seven and sixpence apiece to you. "I see you in the gallery there, Rafferty. What do you pass that well-dressed woman for? thry back-Ha! see that, she had her money ready if you only asked for it-don't go by that other woman there- Oh ho! So you won't give anything, ma'am? you ought to be ashamed of yourself. There is a woman with an elegant sthraw bonnet, and she won't give a farthing. Well now-afther that, remember-I give it from the althar, that from this day out sthraw bonnets pay fi'penny pieces." Thomas Durfy, Esq., £1 0s. Od. "It's not his parish, and he's a brave gentleman." Miss Fanny Dawson, £1 0s. Od. "A Protestant, out of the parish, and a sweet young lady, God bless her! Oh faith, the Protestants is shaming you!" Dennis Fannin, £0 78. 6d. "Very good indeed for a working mason." Jemmy Riley, £0 58. Od. "Not bad for a hedge carpenther." "I gave you ten, plaze your reverence," shouted Jemmy; 'and by the same token you may remember it was on the Nativity of the blessed Vargin, sir, I gave you the second five shillin's." "So you did, Jemmy," cried Father Phil; "I put a little cross before it, to remind me of it; but I was in a hurry to make a sick call when you gave it to me, and I forgot it afther and indeed myself does n't know what I did with that same five shillings." Here a pallid woman, who was kneeling near the rails of the altar, uttered an impassioned blessing, and exclaimed, "Oh, that was the very five shillings, I'm sure, you gave to me that very day, to buy some little comforts for my poor husband, who was dying in the fever!" and the poor woman burst into loud sobs as she spoke. A deep thrill of emotion ran through the flock as this accidental proof of their poor pastor's beneficence burst upon them; and as an affectionate murmur began to rise above the silence which that emotion produced, the burly Father Philip blushed like a girl at this publication of his charity, and even at the foot of that altar where he stood, felt something like shame in being discovered in the commission of that virtue so highly commended by the Providence to whose worship that altar was raised. He uttered a hasty "Whisht, whisht!" and waved with his outstretched hands his flock into silence. In an instant one of those sudden changes so common to an Irish assembly, and scarcely credible to a stranger, took place. The multitude was hushed, the grotesque of the subscription list had passed away and was forgotten, and that same man and that same multitude stood in altered relations-they were again a reverent flock, and he once more a solemn pastor; the natural play of his nation's mirthful sarcasm was absorbed in a moment in the sacredness of his office; and, with a solemnity befitting the highest occasion, he placed his hands together before his breast, and, raising his eyes to heaven, he poured forth his sweet voice, with a tone of the deepest devotion, in that reverential call for prayer, “Orate, fratres!” The sound of a multitude gently kneeling down followed, like the soft breaking of a quiet sea on a sandy beach; and when Father Philip turned to the altar to pray, his pent-up feelings found vent in tears, and while he prayed he wept. I believe such scenes as this are of not unfrequent occurrence in Ireland-that country so long-suffering, so much maligned, and so little understood. O rulers of Ireland! why have you not sooner learned to lead that people by love, whom all your severity has been unable to drive?-SAM. LOVER. THE CHILDREN'S HOUR. ETWEEN the dark and the daylight, I hear in the chamber above me The sound of a door that is opened, From my study, I see, in the lamplight, A whisper, and then a silence; A sudden rush from the stairway, chair; They climb up into my turret They almost devour me with kisses, Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti, I have you fast in my fortress, And there will I keep you forever, Till the walls shall crumble to ruin, H. W. LONGFELLOW. |